


Christmas Lights

by therealityqueen212



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealityqueen212/pseuds/therealityqueen212
Summary: A little fluffy fic, inspired by some of my favourite lines from one of my favourite songs.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Comments: 26
Kudos: 127





	Christmas Lights

_We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January,_

_This is our place, we make the rules._

6th January 1815 was clear and cold. Frost covered the wide lawns of Aubrey Hall, and the lake was frozen over. Anthony, Viscount Bridgerton, was in a contemplative mood. He strolled around the drawing rooms and parlours, reflecting on his first Christmas as a married man. His first with Kate.

Christmas boughs were still hung in every room. Under Kate's supervision, the festive garlands had been made from fir, holly and mistletoe from the estate, and decorated with candles. For twelve days of dancing, games, gifts, and laughter, the boughs had lit the house. Once vivid red and green, they were now rather dull with wax and dust.

It had been a _very_ lively Christmas. Even without the Duke, Daphne and their new baby (who had sensibly opted for a quiet Yuletide at home) Aubrey Hall was full to the rafters. Anthony's siblings were the same as ever - rambunctious, loud, infuriating and occasionally wonderful. Francesca never tired of playing carols and jigs on the piano Anthony had purchased for her use. Benedict sketched in the corner and snuck out to share cigarettes and secrets with Eloise - who had herself become firm friends with all the Sheffield ladies. Colin regaled them all with stories of his travels and ate more plum pudding than was really seemly. Edwina and Mary, though outnumbered by the Bridgerton clan, seemed to have enjoyed their time at Aubrey Hall just as much as everyone else. Mary and Violet went for chatty walks together every day, whilst Edwina spent many happy hours in the library, reading Plato and swooning over letters from her fiance.

At the centre of it all was Kate. His clever, loving, irresistible wife. It had pleased him greatly to see how much his family liked her, how they laughed at her quick wit and cherished her thoughtfulness. And his heart had swelled with pride as he watched Kate begin to find her feet in the various new roles she had taken on when they married: hostess, lady of the house, Viscountess. 

None of the guests would ever have imagined that Kate still felt a little anxious about her new responsibilities. That every night in bed she would ask Anthony how she was doing: _Had she decorated the house with evergreens to his mother's taste? Had she chosen the right games for Hyacinth and Gregory? Had the new dishes at dinner been quite right?_ And Anthony, though usually otherwise occupied (unlacing her chemise or caressing her breasts, perhaps) would reply honestly: "of course, my darling." 

That morning, their guests had all departed for London and Somerset. Benedict and Colin were nursing hangovers and muttering obscenities at Anthony because the "tonic" he offered them had only made them more nauseous (one last prank for the road, Anthony thought with a smirk). Gregory and Hyacinth were very sad to leave Kate; they pressed drawings into her hands and asked again and again when they could next play "widdershins" (an extremely silly game that Kate had invented to entertain them all on a rainy night. Naturally what started out as a trifling amusement turned into incredibly competitive all-out war between Kate and Gregory on one team, and Anthony and Hyacinth on the other.) Edwina left the Hall laden with books that Anthony told her she could borrow as long as she liked.

As he inspected the boughs, Anthony observed how, after all the noise and games and music, the house felt strangely quiet.

Kate walked into the room and slid an arm around Anthony's waist. Resting her head on his shoulder, she murmured, "it was a perfect Christmas.”

“It was. And that was almost entirely due to my wonderful wife.” He kissed the top of her head.

Kate beamed. “We can keep the boughs up a while longer if you like,” she said. “I never believed in that silly Twelfth Night tradition.”

Anthony looked at her, a little puzzled.

Kate continued: “It's always a shame to say goodbye to a lovely Christmas. And I know you’re sad that everyone’s left. Your mother, Ben and El and everyone. You're used to a busy house. But we’ll be in London again in a few weeks.”

Anthony smiled slightly. “Not _everyone_ has left. I would hope, my love, that you might remain here for the foreseeable future."

"I haven't had a better offer yet," Kate grinned, "but hope springs eternal."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers running through his hair. As during their bizarre courtship, they continued to tease each other mercilessly. But now their flippant words were contradicted by the obvious mutual affection and attraction between them.

Looking into his wife's dark eyes, Anthony said, quite seriously, "I love my family very much, and I was happy to have them here for Christmas. But I am even happier to see them leave, and have you all to myself again."

He pulled her into a kiss, his mouth soft and tender on hers. Then he gently kissed her on the forehead. 

"Let's call for a servant to take the boughs down and build a bonfire," he said.

A few hours later, with Kate wrapped up in heavy coats at Anthony's behest, the young couple watched the flames. Anthony held both Kate's hands in his own. He thought about how much he and his father had loved The Fifth, with its flames, smoke and fireworks. How it had been one of the many things they had shared before Edmund's tragic death. How - until Kate - Anthony had grown accustomed to the idea that he would never again feel as close to anyone as he had to his father.

"1815, our first whole year together," said Kate. "If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be standing here today, married, would you have believed them?"

"That I would be married - yes. That I would be married to someone like you, someone that I love as much as I love you - no," he replied.

Kate kissed him then, with everything she felt, and Anthony kissed her back, his arms wrapped so tightly around her, never wanting to let her go.

In bed that night, as he kissed her neck, as he collapsed in exhausted ecstasy, Anthony noticed that Kate's long brown locks smelled like smoke. Like a new year. Like possibility.

**Author's Note:**

> NB: This should be pretty canon-compliant BUT I read the books around the same time the TV show came out and I'm not 100% sure what's book canon and what's show canon.
> 
> Lyrics from "Lover" by Taylor Swift, she is very good at this songwriting business, go check out her MySpace.


End file.
